There's a latent danger in the middle of any call to virtuous living. You see, it's possible to answer the call in a misdirected way. Even the pursuit of virtue can go off-track, can lead away from real Christian maturity. After we've committed to a lifestyle of growth in virtue as we should, we may find ourselves pursuing it for wrong reasons, or by disordered means.
That's a disorienting claim. It says, simply, that trying to be good can go bad. You can aim for virtue, shoot, and miss its center mark. You can become good by most standards and still miss goodness' source, purpose, and what it signifies. You can miss its center.
Christ, Christ alone, is the center of virtue. This must be clear. He is the source of virtue and he is our model. Now we –you and I– certainly are the proper homes of virtue. We were made for the imitation of Christ, and submission to Christ looks like virtuous living. But any pursuit of virtue that isn't based on the imitation of Christ is neglecting its center, and will cannot find its full completion. Despite any real progress, it cannot find its end.
So many people, Christian or not, miss this truth. They work hard to gain virtue so that they will be approved by someone they respect, or so they can cleanse themselves from their guilt, or to justify their feelings of superiority. It can be the domain of mixed-up shame, guilt, pride, effort, and exhaustion. For many, in particular ways or in general ones, the pursuit of virtue becomes the same as their pursuit of salvation or justification or glorification. And that should not be.
The center of virtue is not salvation. Your virtue will not save you. The center of virtue isn't justification. Your virtue will not justify you. The center of virtue is not glorification. Your virtue will not glorify you. It can't, remember? Our situation with respect to those things is dire enough to have required our God's crucifixion. It's that bad, and your virtuous achievements just can't have such weight or efficacy.
When we feel guilty or shameful, the corrective isn't virtue. The corrective is, very simply, God's forgiveness, so generously ready to be given whenever we repent. Don't ever attempt to replace God's forgiveness with anything, no matter how good it is. Not even with your pursuit of virtue. Virtue doesn't replace forgiveness. Instead, it's initiated and catalyzed by forgiveness.
I can't say this clearly enough: virtue isn't for salvation. Rather, its pursuit is our free chance to live in the magnificent way that Christ is now making possible for us to enjoy forever. It's the way of living that he'll permanently re-inaugurate when he returns to rule the earth. It's a shameless opportunity to live the good life by the grace of God. It's a form of play in the domain of freedom. It's the activity of hope. It's the fumbling, meaning-imbued, awkward chance to become like our new older Brother. It's hanging out with Jesus.
By the Spirit, in the context of prayerful, humble, submissive, patient cooperation, God has granted for you and me to become homes for Christ's bright, shining virtue once again. That is a wonder, and a sweet reunion! And every reunion with Christ's virtue is grace –free, enriching, and full of life. Remembering, therefore, that they are graces, seek those reunions by every Christian means. Seek virtue freely, with hope and humility.
Here's an image. Think about your full attainment of virtue like a Christmas or Easter present from Jesus, a present that includes both its receipt and its assembly. It's a still-boxed tree fort or a model airplane, a gift that includes and implies the chance to build it with him. He's the gift-giver and the expert builder, and he's responsible for the gift's proper completion. He knows you can't put it together on your own, yet he still decides to build it with you. Why? Because being together in the work is more important to him than a flawless process of completion. There will be mistakes and ridiculous moments while you build your virtue together, of course, but he's committed to the project, and that's really all that matters.
If you've grown up in a church, you've probably heard plenty of stories about God granting miraculous, sudden growth in personal virtue to repentant individuals. He can do that! Sometimes, glory be, he does. If he doesn't grant it to you right now, it is not because he can't, nor because he loves other Christians more. It's because he wants to give you your virtue in a different way. He wants to sit down beside you while it's built, plank by plank. That's its own kind of grace. He wants to work with you!
And, let's be very clear: pursuing virtue is work. It's not easy; it's hard and dirty, and it'll be hard and dirty until Jesus comes back. Get grubby! Christ is watching out for you. Join him in the work. It's his present to you, and he's absolutely generous.
This way of understanding virtue means a lot for the way that you should pursue it. It means that you need never seek virtue out of fear or shame. It means that you need never lose hope when you aren't as good as you will be. It means you can pursue virtue, not as expiation, but as preparation for Christ's sure glory. It means that you have nothing to fear and everything to gain. It means that you can pray for mercy with sincere sadness and with some good old simultaneous blessed assurance.
Christ reigns at the center of virtue, and virtue rests at the center of Wheatstone's work. It's why we do what we do, and he's why it is the way it is. Virtue will change the world and it'll change your life, because it's Christ-like. Seek it! But seek it for him, not because you must, but (wonder!) because you may. Be at peace while you do hard work. Draw near to Christ, the Holy One, who is our righteousness, holiness, and redemption, and he will draw near to you.